


By the Old Gods

by Penny48581



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 09:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10613913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny48581/pseuds/Penny48581
Summary: Sansa is about to be sent away to marry prince Gendry, Sandor has a different idea





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing notes are welcome. There is a rape scene so be prepared for that.  
> In this world the Cleganes are a noble northern family, Gendry is the first born son of Robert and Cersi.

Sansa could feel the cool spring breeze blowing against her skin, sending goose bumps over her arms. She’s been waiting outside her father’s study for what feels like ages; these two men deciding the rest of her life, yet she can’t be in the same room. “Sansa,” she hears her father call, “come join us please.” She enters the room and curtseys to the king. “your grace,” she greets. The king responds in a deep roaring laugh, “enough of that girl, you going to be a daughter of mine soon enough.” And there it is, she has to leave her home, and family. “Robert and I have discussed the matter at length, you will travel south to Kings Landing and be conditioned to be the next queen, at which time you will marry prince Gendry.” Her father said the words with pride in his voice, “and then when I drink and whore myself to death, you and my son will have the thrown.” King Robert interluded. “I’m truly honored your grace.” Sansa respectfully accepts. “Now then, lets go kill some boar and celebrate shall we?” the king proposes. “May I join?” Sansa excitedly interrupts. The king looks baffled, but her father smirks. Remembering her manners Sansa corrects. “I apologize your Grace, it’s just this seems to be my last opportunity to enjoy the Northern Wood before we depart.” “of course my dear,” the king Obliges.  
“All hail the queen of the 7 Kingdoms!” Arya shouts upon seeing her sister. “Hush now Arya, I’m only engaged to the prince.” “Oh yes that big bull headed idiot, truly I am sorry you have to marry him.” Arya looks almost genuinely sorry. “Honestly the amount you two bicker I would think that you should marry him.” Arya looks taken aback, “please, I would sooner marry the blond headed sickly prick he has for a brother.” “be carful what you wish for,” Sansa scolds. “Any way, father is arranging a hunting party I intend to join, so if you wouldn’t mind I need to collect my things.” “I’m going too!” Arya yells before running out of the room.  
While the hunting party gathers Sansa takes the time to commit her home to memory, the look, the smell, the people. She sees her brothers and sister all play fighting at the head of the party. Among them is a plethora of northern and southern lords alike, when the royal party arrives, it seems every noble person comes out of hiding. “Why do you look so melancholy for a little bird about to be queen?” Sandor Clegane, a northern lord and a brute approaches Sansa form the back, she jumps “My Lord, you mustn’t sneak up on a lady like that, you startled me,” Sandor roars in laughter, “something tells me that the daughter of Ned Stark isn’t easily startled.” “It’s honestly a shame to see a fine Norther beauty like your self be sent off to the snake pit of the south.” “I hear it’s mostly a lion’s den these days.” Sansa smirks. Sandor chuckles low and deep. “I feel sorry for that prince of yours, southern men don’t know how to handle Northern women.” He walks of with his long dark hair trailing behind him. If there was ever a man that embodied a warrior, it was Sandor Clegane. He had a low threating voice and rugged features.  
“Alright men, lets go get us some boars!” some one cried out at the front of the party Sansa set her horse at pace along with her sister and brother Robb. The hours ticked by, Sansa enjoyed her time in the woods, she stayed on alert though, most of the men in the party wouldn’t expect it but Sansa was an excellent hunter, she had keen senses and was a good shot, she had her bow strapped to her back and her hunting knife holstered at her ankle. Her father had asked her not to participate in the hunting though, the Northern lords wouldn’t have cared, most women in the north were encouraged to participate in these activities and learn to fight. The south however frowned upon women engaging in these activities. It seemed like a whole other world, she was about to be thrown into. She could feel eyes watching her from behind, she turned to see Sandor’s piercing green eyes locked onto her. He wore a smirk, as if he knew something she did not. “the King got one!” cries of excitement filled the air as everyone rushed to see the king’s kill. Suddenly her horse became frightened and she fell off, It wasn’t long before she felt someone grab her and hoist her onto their horse and suddenly began to race away.  
“Clegane has Sansa!” she heard Robb cry, “Lady Stark has been taken!” cries erupted from the hunting party. “Damn!” exclaimed the king, “this is why women don’t belong out her, dammit Ned I want that man’s head!” “Robert, we cannot chase after them!” “why the bloody hell not?” the king asked. “Its part of the old gods, and ancient ritual. When a man sees a woman he desires he takes her. If he survives they are considered wed by the old gods.” “If he survives? Meaning we go and kill him.” One of the southern lords asks dumbly. “No meaning if Sansa doesn’t kill him, which she is encouraged to try. If he dies by her hand then he was not worthy enough to be her husband.” “Sansa is already betrothed to Gendry, she cannot be wed by another!” exclaimed the king, “I’m sorry your grace, there is nothing that can be done, we do no want to upset the old gods.”  
Sansa had no time to panic, her father had told her this was a possibility, and she needed to fight with all her strength she squirmed, falling off the horse was the last thing she wanted at this speed. She took her elbow and rammed it into Sandor’s rib cage, he let out a breath of air still holding onto her “you’ll have to try harder than that little bird.” With out another word she threw her head back and collided it with Sandor’s face. It was a solid head butt, enough to render Sandor temporarily defenseless the horse sputtered with out the control of its master, it slowed enough for Sansa to fall to the ground with out injury. She knew she had little time to put distance between her and Sandor so she sprinted off into the woods, she took her bow off her back and looked for a place to hide, no matter how fast she was she could not outrun that war horse. She stopped at a large boulder and climbed atop, he would see her, but lucky for her she was armed, and a deadly hunter. She waited and he could hear the horse approaching.  
When it came into view, Sandor was absent from the saddle, maybe she hit him harder than she thought. In the same instant she felt a hand over her mouth begin to yank her back. “Gotcha,” he whispered into her ear. Sansa instantly started struggling against his grip, she dropped her bow in the process but bit his hand enough to draw blood. “Fuck!” he screamed and let go, Sansa ran again but could hear his heavy boots following. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to the ground, she began to frantically crawl, trying all her might to get away from him. Remembering she had her hunting knife she reached for it in her boot and slashed at him, she got him in the face once, and then sliced his forearm. He grabbed her wrist and disarmed her. Pinning her to the ground he began to tie her hands over her head with his belt. Now that he had her pinned to the ground he picked up her knife. “Nice blade you have here, I must say.” He admired it for another minute and took the blade to her laced up shirt. He cut each lace and exposed her breasts, she struggled under his weight, but it was useless. “Give up the fight Sansa, I win” he kissed her, it was a gentle kiss and unexpected. “I made you bleed, and I will keep doing so if you try to make me your wife!” Sandor laughed loud and long, he bent over and whispered in her ear, “that’s exactly why I want you.” In the same instant he flipped her over, she was now on her knees and her breasts exposed, she knew what was about to happen and so she kept struggling, she escaped from his grasp for a minute and was able to crawl a little out from under him, but it was useless, he pushed her head against the ground.  
His finger curled around the waistline of her riding pants and tugged them down, the cold air on her bare bottom was a surprise and she let out a gasp, with a firm hand still pressing her head to the ground she could hear Sandor fumbling with his trousers. But then she felt a sharp pain of penetration as Sandor entered her, he let out a sigh of relief and she a sob, he bent down and whispered in her ear, “your mine now.” And it was true by the old gods she was now his, and he was hers. A worthy man her father would say, but she couldn’t feel that way. His penis entered her in and out, the pain began to give way to pleasure, she gasped each time he hit a spot inside her, and she felt completely filled, at the mercy of his strength. He thrust a few more times before he came with a loud moan.  
When he finally got off of her he said, “this is a truce, your my wife now, I’ll take care of you and love you; you’ll bare my children, please for the sake of the old gods, don’t kill me as soon as I untie you.”  
Sansa couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his plea for mercy, as if he had shown her any. “of course, husband,” she said sarcastically. He let out a heavy sigh and untied her, “come, let’s find that damned war horse of mine. He helped her to her feet and she grabbed her hunting knife off the ground where he discarded it. She held it in her hands staring at it for a moment before she looked up and saw Sandor in defensive stance. “Wife, you promised you wouldn’t kill me.” He said wife as if to remind her they were bound by the gods. She wouldn’t kill him because of her love for the gods, as well as her families honor. But she did take the knife and proceed to slice at him, punch him and scream like a child. She made a few more cuts in him, his chest, his arm. Before he held her tight to his chest; she dropped the knife and began to sob. “I know, I’m sorry little bird. I just couldn’t let them take you away. I wanted to marry you the proper way.” “You can’t even say my name,” Sansa observed. “I’m sorry, Sansa,” Sandor said her name with reverence, as is he truly did love her, she almost believed it for a second.


End file.
